


the terrible brightness

by orphan_account



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-12 19:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2122431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>semi-depressing au thing where Shinji is just a bullied schoolboy, and then Kaworu makes an appearance. unoriginal and uncalled for and all-around gratuitous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi I'm Al and I have a lot of feelings about evangelion so I decided to channel them into this fic. this is the first time I've written fic with chapters and also the first time I've written fic for myself and not at a friend's request.  
> guess I should add a warning for bullying, I wasn't sure whether to put that in the tags or just a note: also mild descriptions of blood, I felt it was far from warranting the graphic descriptions of violence warning but here it is. if anyone feels that this warrants an actual archive warning, please comment and let me know. 
> 
> this isn't a very well fleshed out au so idk if I'll add other characters. if I do, they will appear in tags as is ao3 tradition.

He was fourteen the first time he met Kaworu, fourteen and tired of the world. Did all fourteen year olds feel like this? He wondered. Did everyone go through this? He thought of all the men and women in the world, people who went about their daily lives and told him to put his chin up and grin and bear it, heartless adults who told him to keep trying when he simply didn't have any more to give. They had all been fourteen once. Was he unique in his suffering, or had they all fought this same battle? It didn't feel like a battle, not to Shinji. It felt like being crushed under waves until all the water would erode away his flesh and his bones and every molecule floated away into the tide. It felt like drowning and dying.

He was lying in the field as he thought this, somewhat dizzy, bleeding from his face, and breathing heavily. 

"What's the matter, Ikari?" some leering boy had asked him not five minutes earlier, punching him again and again. "Didn't your father ever teach you to fight like a man?"  
Shinji had been crying. The jab about his father brought back the tears. The salty water had mixed with blood, and the strangled sob merged with a pained cry for help. The gang of his classmates had left when he'd made it quite obvious that he wasn't going to do much more than sit there and take the punches.

He was not crying anymore, now, almost. He was lying in the field and looking up at the sky, or trying to. It had been raining earlier, and now the sun was shining between clouds and reflecting off of the mist and turning the atmosphere into such a dim brightness that was difficult to behold without protective eyewear. So he was squinting, really, occasionally, when he could bear it. Most of the time, he was closing his eyes. The tears magnified the terrible brightness. 

The grassy field was itchy and poked through his school uniform, but he lay with arms and legs splayed out, feeling as if he was spinning out into infinity, into the vast open space of that awful bright dirty clouded sky. 

"Hey." He hadn't heard footsteps approaching in the itchy grass field, but now there was a shadow, so Shinji opened his eyes. Somebody was standing above him, looking down at him. 

"Go away," Shinji managed, testing out his voice, relived to find that his throat had momentarily cleared itself of all choked sobs that might have been secretly residing there. 

The figure knelt. "Can you sit up?"  
He wasn't sure. Hands gripped his  
shoulders- confident, reassuring hands- and he discovered that he could.

The person was surveying his face. "Does it hurt?" 

Shinji brought his hand up to his face, and gingerly touched the spot where an angry fist had collided. Involuntarily, he winced. Yes, it did hurt, a lot. 

"That'll leave a mark," the person said. "Here." And they provided a tissue, and handed it to Shinji, and he used it to dab blood and tears from his cheek. 

He turned to look at the figure, who, from his voice, could be assumed to be a boy, with a mop of white-gray hair, about Shinji's own age, and wearing a school uniform. He had the oddest face, with an expression caught somewhere between curiosity, concern, and a shit-eating grin. Shinji had never seen him before. 

"Are you going back up to the school?" the boy asked. 

"Who are you?"

"I'm Nagisa Kaworu. I'm new here." The boy grinned. 

Shinji averted his gaze. "The school's up there." He pointed. 

"You're not going to walk with me?"

"No." 

"Can you stand?"

Shinji got to his feet. He wobbled a bit. He regained balance. "Yes."

"Alright, then let's go up to the school."

"School's over."

"I have to go there. I told you, I'm new." 

Nagisa Kaworu almost bounced up and down on the balls of his feet with a quiet nervous energy. 

Shinji stared at him for a long moment. "No," he whispered, fearing he would cry again. And he ran home, eyes watering in the terrible humid dimness of the sunlight. 

_______

 

The next day, Nagisa Kaworu sat at the previously vacant desk in the back of Shinji's classroom. 

Shinji didn't look at him. He looked straight ahead, like he always did, at the board. This way, he couldn't see people pointing at him, and if he turned up his music loud enough, he couldn't hear their rude taunts either. They were probably staring at his black eye. Surely a class of fourteen-year-olds would have gotten used to this. It wasn't uncommon. Everyone knew he got beaten up. Most people knew who it was that did the beating, too: a select group of boys had taken to occasionally taking their anger out on him, when he did something they didn't like. 

He wasn't sure what he'd done to be the butt of every class joke, the scapegoat, the communal punching bag. Well, he could make some educated guesses. He was different. Everyone knew he was different. That made him easy to pick on. He wasn't sure what to do about it, though, other than wait for their teasing to end. 

It wasn't too bad, he tried to tell himself sometimes. They liked him, didn't they, really? Sometimes some of the students would stare at him with a half-pitying glance, as if they wished they could help him.

No one ever did, though. But today the boy at the back of the class stared at him with a different kind of curiosity, one which made Shinji turn around in the middle of class to look at him, multiple times. 

Every time, Kaworu wouldn't take his eyes off Shinji, who would whisper, "What do you want?"

The boy shook his head, and Shinji returned to his schoolwork. This happened several times.


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaworu's POV.
> 
> this would have been up sooner but school, and also my friend introduced me to dota oops

He felt like he was floating, as if he was a leaf in the wind and everyone else had more important things that they anchored themselves to. So he drifted from school to school, town to town: nothing could bother him. It was easy. He was bored.  
Kaworu pondered this while the small hurt boy ran away from him. Well, I tried, he decided, and almost turned away.  
He stopped. He turned to watch, squinting as Shinji stumbled, gathered himself, and continued running away. He blinked away the dust in his eyes, and the small speck on the road had disappeared from view.  
Kaworu turned around again, and headed back to the school.  
__________  
The dark-haired boy sat in front of Kaworu in class the next day. It was obvious he wasn't liked. People whispered, giggled: there were marks on his face today. Students would call out seemingly benign questions, but masked in an all-too-familiar mocking rudeness. The boy ignored it all, or looked like he was: he was listening to music on earphones.  
The teacher called roll: Kaworu noted the boy's name: Ikari Shinji. Class dragged on.  
He didn't focus on the history lesson. He was watching the boy in front of him: what was he like? Was he bullied often?  
Despite the cold welcome he'd received, he wondered if they could become friends. 

After school had let out, he caught up to the boy, and found him sitting on a bench outside the school.  
"Hi."  
He didn't answer. He was listening to music on his headphones.  
"You can hear me, can't you?"  
A nod.  
"Ikari Shinji? That's your name, right?"  
A nod, again.  
"We never properly introduced ourselves the other day."  
He received a side-eye glance for his inquisition, and then- to Kaworu's delight- removed an earbud.  
"What do you want?"  
"I don't know," he said truthfully. "To talk, I suppose. Isn't that what people do? They talk, and get to know each other."  
Shinji returned the sentiment with a small shake of his head. "You're strange."  
Kaworu smirked at the compliment. "I guess so."

They walked home from school together: Kaworu's apartment was just a few blocks past Shinji's.  
Together, they trudged through the humid air, checking the sky for coming rain. In the silence, Kaworu observed his new acquaintance: his dark hair and small, skinny frame, the sad expression ingrained in his face, the defeated shuffle he walked with. There was something about him, he thought, that made him look fragile. Important. Fragile, yet important. Important, yet fragile.  
"Why did those kids beat you up?" Kaworu asked suddenly. Break the silence between them, go ahead, he told himself. Ask all the wrong questions. Be blunt and impertinent- it's what you're best at.  
Shinji didn't say anything. "I don't know. I'm an easy target, I guess. I'm small and weak. I don't have friends."  
Something inside Kaworu ached at this, and he frowned.  
"And you just... You just let them?"  
The smaller boy shrugged. "It's only a couple of kids. It's not that bad, really, I mean- I guess- it does kind of suck."  
And the aching feeling inside him screamed out, because here was a small precious important boy, who he would not let be trampled all over anymore. "Don't you have any friends?" Blunt.  
"I guess. There's Asuka, and Rei, but Asuka taunts me a lot anyway, and Rei never says anything at all... I like her, but she's quiet."  
"What kind of friend doesn't stick up for someone who gets beat up?" He was a little louder now, he realized, breathing heavier, and he tried to calm himself down.  
"I don't know." Shinji seemed to dismiss the question, but his expression became more morose.  
oh no, I've made him sad, Kaworu realized. Or sadder, to be more accurate. "We're friends now, right?"  
Shinji considered, blinking as the sun briefly appeared from behind a cloud.  
"Oh, this is my apartment." He had stopped at a door in a building. "I'll see you tomorrow?"  
"Tomorrow," said Kaworu. He locked eyes with Shinji, who was fumbling with a key. "I'll see you tomorrow." The sun's rays dissipated behind water vapor again as a wispy cloud moved in front of it.  
His eyes lingered for a moment on the small, bony frame, the dark, mournful eyes. He thought: yes. Yes, I will see you tomorrow.


	3. lmao wait are chapter titles a thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ummmmm idk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's midnight and i have an ap bio test tomorrow what the hell am i doing with my life
> 
> shinji's POV 'cause i'm a piece of shit and do multiple POV like that's a thing that happens
> 
> disclaimer: i never proofread anything i post on this site, ever

They came for him again the next day. He always arrived early, and sat for a while on one of the benches in the courtyard's morning dew.   
He didn't hear what they were saying to him, not at first. But the rude voices battered past his music and into his ears, into his head, where he sat, trying to ignore them.   
Until one of them yanked the cord away from him. He looked up, agitated.   
"Did you hear what I said?" one of the boys asked, the same one as yesterday and the same one as the day before that and the day before that, always the same boy.   
Shinji's first thought was please don't judge me for my music tastes and his second thought was give me back my music player, please!   
For the boy had taken the music player and was dangling it by its cord, just out of Shinji's reach.   
He grabbed for it. It was pulled higher. He grabbed for it again. It was once again yanked away. He stopped.  
"What, aren't you going to try and get it?" There was a glint in the boy's eye, a mean glint. He moved forward, and Shinji flinched involuntarily.   
"Yeah, that's right. He's scared." The boy spoke now to his friends, who laughed. "Hey, how come he never talks? I bet he thinks he's better than us." He leaned in closer. "Do you think you're better than the rest of us, Ikari? Do you?"   
Shinji didn't answer. He wondered, briefly, if he could run away. It would, he decided, be an exceedingly bad idea.  
"Hey, how 'bout we teach him another lesson? Guess the first one didn't get through his thick skull." More rude laughter, and he rapped on the side of Shinji's head: Shinji tried very hard not to move, and thought maybe it was all just a bad dream. Running away will only make it worse, he thought to himself. Don't run away.   
And the fist collided with his head again, and the world and the clouded sky turned to a blur of pain and confusion-   
"Get away from him, damn it!"   
Sudden movement- his tormenter was yanked away from him as the four or so onlookers scattered: the dispersion was I their midst.   
"What are you doing?" Kaworu, the strange white-haired boy from the previous day's events, gripped the boy by his shirt collar and shook him. He did not raise his voice- it was quite calm. "Why were you hurting him?"   
There was no response save for a very small and pathetic noise: Shinji looked on, bewildered, as Kaworu dropped his tormenter to the ground, and he and his accomplices ran away.   
Kaworu sat down on the bench next to Shinji. "Are you alright?"   
"You again," he said quietly. He gathered up his belongings, stuffing everything into his bag. "Why do you always show up?"   
"Did they hurt you?"  
"I'm probably fine," muttered Shinji. "I should get going."   
"Shinji, I'm sorry I got there I could have gotten there earlier, they never should have-"   
"It's not your fault. It's not anybody's fault." He wouldn't meet the boy's eyes, though he felt the piercing stare.  
"Shinji, please." There was something pleading in his voice.   
He looked up, and caught Kaworu's assertive red gaze.  
"Does this happen often?"  
He shrugged.   
“Why won’t you answer?”  
Another shrug.  
“Should we go inside now?”  
“Okay.”

They walked home together that afternoon.  
“Is it always this humid here?” Kaworu asked, blinking.  
Shinji shrugged. “I guess. I never really noticed.”  
“It’s so cloudy here.” But the clouds did nothing but refract and magnify the sun’s brilliance: billions of water droplets angling their tiny prisms to fill the city with a piercing glow. “But… hot.”  
This earned him another shrug. “Isn’t it always this way?”

“Not where I come from.”  
“Where do you come from?”   
An inquiry. But Kaworu chose not to answer. “Why does it matter?”  
“Because you’re strange.” Shinji tugged at his shirt collar.   
Kaworu gave a harsh laugh. “Strange? What makes you think that?”   
“Well, it’s just… everything. Everything you do! It’s all weird, and unnatural.”  
“In a bad way?”  
Shinji considered. “No… I don’t think so.”  
Kaworu allowed a smirk to spread across his face. “I can live with that, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so idk these chapters are getting progressively shorter. sorry if anyone was on the edge of their seat waiting for a second installment (judging from the number of bookmarks NOT MANY lmao.) disclaimer: i can't stand to read my own fics so i never proofread these. if there's a glaring error tell me in the comments


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> these just keep getting worse and worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi midterms ended and i said "hey how about that kawoshin fic. yes that one." this is incredibly short. i'm like. the master of short chapters. at this point. anyway it's really short but here. have it.  
> i had to avert my eyes while writing this i cant even stand to look at it  
> shoves the chapter at you, and then runs away  
> ((also i just remembered two people from irl know my ao3 account name and are probably reading this and snickering. so, hi.))

“You should come over sometime. To my place.”  
Shinji looked up, confused. “Like. With you. At your place.”  
“I only live a couple of blocks away. It’s not far.”  
“Why?”  
Kaworu shrugged. “To hang out? And talk? I don’t know. It’s just a thing that friends do.”  
“And we’re friends?”  
“We walk home together every day. Don’t we?”  
“That doesn’t make us friends.” Shinji stared at the ground as he trudged in stride with Kaworu. A haze hung over the city, as if in expectation of something. Yes, that exactly: it was an expectant haze, one meant to usher in some change in weather. Not meant to linger for days. It should have rained, or cleared up. But no, the haze remained, full of blustering hot warm air. It stagnated, it crept under doors and through the slats of air conditioning vents. It crept like tears into everyone’s eyes and made them squint and blink.  
“Well, don’t you have any friends?”  
Wow, rude. The answer was no. He said so.  
“Why not?” Kaworu’s voice was gentle but prodding, curious.  
“I don’t know. I just never made any.” He kicked at a patch of ground. “I moved here. I had friends where I lived before.” He remembered them. It hurt to say: they had been there- Asuka, Toji, Rei- all of them together. And now they weren’t, because of some resason that this fanfic doesn’t have enough plot to specify. Now he was in some new school all alone.  
“Well, I think we should be friends.” Kaworu didn’t bring up the events of the previous week. The bullies hadn’t bothered Shinji since.  
“I guess I could come over to your house,” said Shinji, “tomorrow, or something. If you really wanted.” He didn’t make eye contact with Kaworu as he said this, or he would have seen the grin spreading over the other boy’s pale face. “I mean. If that’s what you,”  
“Yes,” said Kaworu, “yes. Of course. You’ll come over tomorrow.”  
\--  
That night, lying in his bed and listening to music on his headphones, Shinji whispered the word to himself. Friends. It had been too long since he’d had reason to use it.  
\--  
“Another match?”  
“Sure.”  
Kaworu had dragged a video game console out of somewhere and found a disc that wasn’t too badly scratched. Shinji wondered if this was what everyone else in his class did in their free time- stayed up too late, talked with friends, played video games. Just like he had with Asuka and Rei and the others.  
Kaworu had evidently spent a good many hours practicing this, because his character leaped from side to side with adeptness, conjuring a great many complicated attacks and defenses. He seemed to have perfect control of the frantically squirming bundle of pixels, as if it was an extension of himself.  
Shinji, on the other hand, having grasped the basics of the controls, mashed the buttons with a fury that made Kaworu giggle. His character leapt, spun in midair, and threw attacks in every direction. Gathering more energy, the animation barreled towards Kaworu’s character, gaining momentum and shooting out energy- until Kaworu cleverly dodged the attack, and left Shinji’s avatar to tumble off of the gaming platform and disappear in a burst of pixels. The screen read ‘Game Over’.  
“You’re so aggressive,” chuckled the white haired boy. “Never would have thought you had it in you.”  
“I don’t understand,” said Shinji, gesturing at the screen, “what are you doing? How do you get good at this? Is there actually strategy?”  
Kaworu rubbed at the back of his head and turned slightly pink. “I, uh… got really bored a few years back.  
“Really, really bored,” repeated Shinji. “Incredible.”  
“Well, anyway, want to call it a night? You look tired.”  
Kaworu ruffled Shinji’s hair absentmindedly. Shinji flinched at the contact.  
“Oh, sorry,” said Kaworu, withdrawing his hand, “I shouldn’t’ve-”  
“No!” said Shinji too quickly, and turned red. “It’s fine. Um.”  
Kaworu glanced out the window. “It’s dark,” he said, “really late. Want to stay the night?”  
“Uh, um.” He barely knew the boy, and yet the idea of staying the night with him didn’t seem strange at all: he felt comfortable with him. More comfortable than he had in a long time.  
“It’s just… if you have to walk home… I wouldn’t want-”  
“No, I’ll stay. Thank you.” He met the taller boy’s red eyes as they both awkwardly stood up from the floor.  
\--  
An hour later, lying in the other half of Kaworu’s bed in borrowed pajamas and surveying the unfamiliar room, Shinji felt different: as if somehow, he wasn’t just a small and insignificant dot on the planet. As if he could be the focal point for something important and wonderful. Maybe it had to do with having a friend now.  
Yes, he thought, we are friends. He listened Kaworu’s steady breathing, and the rhythym helped him drift off to sleep.  
Friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i do not endorse super smash bros or nintendo corporation

**Author's Note:**

> when school starts up I doubt I'll have time to work on it but I thought I'd get a few chapters in, maybe more if anyone likes it. next chapter will be kaworu's POV and they'll switch on and off because I'm lazy and it makes the plot move quicker. 
> 
> anyway, comments, etc are appreciated. constructive criticism is welcome! please feel free to admonish me. it will help me grow as a writer.


End file.
